Safe and Sound
by Zeragii
Summary: The night in the forest was dark and quiet. Nearby, in the small, Gaulish village, everyone lay asleep in their beds; no one stirred. Crickets chirped and frogs gave a deep thrum every so often. Everything seemed calm...but, as everyone knows, things aren't always as they seem...
1. Disaster Strikes

**I do not own Asterix, or anything related to it. I do not write for profit, only for my (and other people's) enjoyment. ENJOY!**

**.,,..,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,,.,..,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,,.,..,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,..,,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.**

The night in the forest was dark and quiet. Nearby, in the small, Gaulish village, everyone lay asleep in their beds; no one stirred. Crickets chirped and frogs gave a deep thrum every so often. Everything seemed calm...but, as everyone knows, things aren't always as they seem...

...

Not far from the Gaul's village, several Roman soldiers hid in the forest, gathered around their commander, Spacious.

"We shall attack at dawn," the leader continued, smirking with anticipation. "Before they're even fully awake. That should throw them for a loop."

The other Romans smiled evilly. They had been planning this for weeks. Caesar had sent troop after troop to destroy the Gauls, and they had all failed. But not this time. They were prepared. They would be victorious!

"This will be their undoing," one particular soldier snickered. His smaller, and slightly dimwitted companion gave him a curious glance.

"Duh, but don't they have this, uh, magic potion, that, duh...makes dem strong?" he asked. He received a smash on the helmet, causing it to fall down over his eyes. As he struggled to pull it off his head, Spacious outlined their plan to him for the umpteenth time.

"Idiot! How many times must we explain it to you!" he growled. "We have been watching this little village for the last four months. Our spies discovered that the Gauls run out of potion ingredients every few weeks. After which, their druid goes into the forest to gather more. According to our calculations, they should be just about out by now. This means they don't have enough potion to fight us off. We shall attack before they can restock their supply, and lay siege until they surrender." He smiled crookedly, "They'll be no match for us."

Another soldier, whose name was Overcatious, spoke up nervously.

"W-what about the b-big G-G-Gaul?"

Spacious rolled his eyes, as if it were another stupid question.

"Shall we say, he will be too busy with other things...and besides, he'd never find us. We shall strike, and strike hard, but remain out of sight. They will be unable to leave the gates of their village, but will be hard pressed to stay within it's walls. When hunger drives them out, they will be defeated, at last." He gave an evil laugh, and the others quickly joined in.

"Sleep well, Gauls, while you can." Then to his men he smirked, "Ready the catapult."

...

_Cacafonix stood in the center of the village, before all his friends and neighbors. He stood proudly singing in a beautiful voice, while the villagers looked on in awe._

_"How did you ever get such an amazing voice, Cacafonix?" Asked Unhygenix and Fullautomatix in unison._

_Cacafonix smiled, enraptured in the moment._

_ Suddenly the sky began to glow blood red. Fire seemed to shoot out all around the village. Screams filled the air, as panic filled the Gauls. Cacafonix felt like the walls of the village were closing in on him, like a monster, threatening to engulf him. He tried to cry out, but his mouth felt dry and he couldn't utter a word. A great shadow started to spread slowly across the ground toward him. He wanted to run, but his legs felt weak and wouldn't obey him. The shadow came closer and closer, until suddenly he was plunged into complete and total darkness..._

...

"Ah!" _Thump_

Cacafonix fell out of bed with a yelp.

He lay on the wooden floor of his tree cottage, tangled in the sheets and blankets that were wrapped firmly around him. He gulped in a few breaths of air, waiting for his heart to slow down. He tried to get his mind to refocus, but it wasn't easy.

_This_ _is_ _the_ _sixth_ _night_ _in_ _a row_! he thought, shakily detaching himself from the sheets. It was true. Every night the dream returned, only this time it had been more vivid, more real. He shivered. _More_ _terrifying_.

These dreams were really starting to worry the bard. He was beginning to be afraid of going to bed at night at all, as the dreams worsened. Despite his distress, he had told no one, not even Gatafix, the village druid. They'd probably only laugh at him, anyway. It was, after all, only a dream. But what a dream! It mixed his greatest wish and his greatest fear all into one long, haunting nightmare.

Cacafonix felt a sad tug at his heart. He knew they didn't mean anything by it, but the villagers always treated him...well, with impatience. His singing was often received with groans and a sharp bop to the head. His advice and opinions were always overlooked. He was the village bard, for goodness sake! What else would they expect him to do? Why didn't they appreciate him?

Cacafonix sighed. But he couldn't leave them. They were his friends, despite how they treated him. And Cacafonix knew, deep down, that they cared for him. At least, he hoped they did.

Knowing that he wouldn't be able to sleep, Cacafonix wrapped a warm, wool blanket around himself and walked out the door onto the platform of his tree cottage.

He smiled as he glanced down at the other houses, bound close to the solid earth below. His home was the only one of it's kind, that he could think of, and he loved it dearly. It provided such a beautiful view. From his vantage point the bard saw that the sun was just beginning to rise, as a faint glow appeared in the east. The sound of chirps and squawks in the forest heralded the awakening of the birds as they flew from their nests to start their day.

As the Gaul's eyes roved over the landscape, something caught his attention. Unsure and curious as to what it was, he made his way along the platform so he could have a closer look. He narrowed his eyes, trying to focus as he neared the edge. He stood like that for a moment, when he suddenly leaped back with a startled look on his face.

"Oh no!" He cried, turning to run to the spiral staircase that lead to the ground, just as something huge and covered in fire slammed into the tree house.

...

Unhygenix awoke to the sound of a terrible scream, followed by an explosion that shook the village like an earthquake. Jumping out of bed, he ran to his cottage door, hearing his wife call out in fear behind him.

"Unhygenix! What's happening!" She shrilled.

"I don't know!" he yelled back, making it to the door, and flinging it open, "But I'll-" He broke off at the horrible sight before him.

The village was alight with the hot glow of fire as Cacafonix's tree was engulfed in a burning inferno. Villagers ran in panic, trying to get away from the falling embers of burning wood and branches.

He saw Asterix and Obelix run out of their huts, just as it caught fire. Unhygenix ran back inside and grabbed his wife and son, hurrying them out of harms way. Every other man in the village did the same, bringing their families to the far corner of the village away from the bard's tree. Once the woman and children were safe, the men quickly turned and ran back to the fire. Unhygenix found himself running alongside Fullautomatix. The blacksmith looked terrified and bedraggled. The crowd of Gauls made it to the tree house.

Gatafix was already there, his face pale with worry.

"Cacafonix!" He cried up to the burning structure. Everyone strained their eyes against the glare, praying the bard would appear. But he didn't. Unhygenix and the rest began to feel panic well up inside them. They all started shouting their friend's name, but still no answer came.

"That's it!" Asterix yelled above the noise, "I'm going up there!"

He started to climb the steps with Obelix right behind him. But as the larger Gual began to follow, the tree creaked dangerously beneath his weight.

Asterix gave his friend an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Obelix, but I'm afraid your just too much for this structure to hold."

Obelix muttered huffily under his breath as he stepped down and off the steps. Asterix turned to carry on alone when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning he saw the grim faces of Unhygenix and Fullautomatix. They didn't have to say anything. Asterix nodded, and they followed him up to the smoldering tree cottage.

...

Cacafonix dragged himself forward with difficulty. When the ball of fire had hit, he had been sent flying. Luckily for him, instead of being thrown from the platform to the ground below, he was thrown through one of the windows of his cottage. But he wasn't safe. The roof crackled and burned as it began to surcomb to the blaze upon it. He felt the tree shudder slightly. The bard tried again to raise to his feet, but only felt pain all over when he did. He must have broke something. The smoke hurt his eyes and throat, and made it hard to breath. He couldn't tell which direction the door was, even if he could make it there.

"Cacafonix!" The voice sounded far away.

The bard opened his mouth to answer, but no sound would come out. No words, anyway. The foul air entering his lungs was released in a rush as he was launched into a violent fit of coughing. Painful as it was, it was the best thing that could have happened to the bard.

"Did you hear that?" Asterix asked, breathing into his shirt to keep the smoke from entering his body. The other two Gauls stopped in their tracks. All three were standing at the entrance to the burning tree cottage. The heat was frightful, causing the interior to waver and dance, that which was visible through the smoke.

Unhygenix and Fullautomatix listened carefully. The sound of roaring flames and crackling wood was tremendous. But, even so, through the debris and ash came the sound of sharp, desperate coughing.

"I hear him!" Unhygenix cried, "but I can't tell from where!"

"Spread out and make your way to a section of the house!" Asterix yelled over the noise. "Unhygenix, you go left, I'll take the middle, and you, Fullautomatix, you take the right. Keep an eye open for him, and be careful!"

Making his way under a fallen beam, Fullautomatix started to make his way to the right side of the cottage. His stomach turned as he felt the structure beneath him sway slightly. They needed to find Cacafonix, and fast!

The sound of coughing erupted right in front of him. Rushing forward through the smoke, the blacksmith nearly fell over his friend. The sight before him caused his heart to melt.

The bard lay on his side, arms clutched around his chest as his body shook with each cough and gasp. Fullatomatix knelt down beside Cacafonix, calling out to the other two Gauls.

"I found him! He's over here! He's-oh!"

The blacksmith jumped in surprise when the bard suddenly latched onto his arm with both hands. His grip was stronger then Fullautomatix would have thought. And, looking into his friend's wide eyes, he understood for the first time just how frightened the bard truly was. He was shaking uncontrollably, and seemed unable to get up on his own. Helping Cacafonix into a sitting position, Fullautomatix discovered why. On the bard's left side was a dreadful burn spot, not only on the clothing, but on the skin as well. It was mostly black, charred and dirty, but a slight red blotch confirmed it was more then a slight scorch.

Asterix and Unhygenix appeared beside the blacksmith, taking in Cacafonix's condition at a glance.

"Can he walk?" Asterix asked worriedly, feeling the tree house rock dangerously.

"I-I don't think so," Fullautomatix replied, still greatly unnerved by the bard's desperate grip wringing the life from his hand.

"Then we'll have to carry him," Asterix replied, assisting in pulling Cacafonix to his feet. The bard was a dead weight as he leaned limply against them.

_Crack_!

The three rescuers glanced up fearfully as the roof timbers began to give way.

"This structure isn't going to last much longer," Unhygenix cried over the noise. "We need to leave now!"

Between the three of them, they managed to steady Cacafonix and half carry-half drag him out the door onto the open platform. Many of the planks were missing, eaten by the consuming fire, and many more were unsafe to step on at this point. Treading carefully, Asterix led the way, testing each plank with his foot before standing on it with his full weight. Fullautomatix and Unhygenix followed right behind him, carrying the bard between them. Cacafonix still held firmly onto the blacksmith's arm, frightened and unable to stand on his own.

Finally, and not without a few close calls, they made it to the winding stairwell that would lead them to the ground below. They could see the crowd of men, faces lifted up towards them, as they began the slow decent. A cheer went up from the group below when Cacafonix came into view.

Slowly, and rather painfully, they made their way down the spiral staircase, struggling to support the bard and avoid the pieces of burning debris that crumbled and fell all around them. Calls of advice and encouragement made its way up to the rescuers, urging them to hurry.

Suddenly, a loud crackle and crunch was heard by all. In terror, everyone looked up as the burning inferno swayed dangerously as it let out a final warning. It began to fall just as Asterix's feet touched solid earth.

"Back!" yelled the little Gaul, panic evident on his face. "Back, quick! Everybody run!"

All the Gauls took to their heals and ran in all directions as the great tree came crashing down, very narrowly missing Fullautomatox and Unhygenix, slowed down by their burden.

Safe and out of harm's way, they all stood watching as the fallen oak slowly burned to ashes. Fullautomatix couldn't help but feel a tad bit sad at the tree's fateful end. It had been a rather redeeming quality of the village, a sort of monumental landmark, one might say. Not to mention that Cacafonix loved it dearly.

The blacksmith was shaken from his thoughts when the tight grip on his arm suddenly loosened, and the bard in question fainted dead away. Fullautomatix and Unhygenix barely had time to catch him before he hit the ground.

"Gatafix!" Unhygenix cried, clearly worried as he helped lay Cacafonix on the wet, dewy grass. The druid was beside them at once, as was the whole village. The women and children had rejoined the menfolk, and they all stood anxiously by as Gatafix examined the village bard.

"He appears to be badly burned," the druid said, carefully touching the black and shredded material on Cacafonix's side. "But I cannot tell how badly. You two..." Here he pointed to Fullautomatix and Unhygenix. "Carry him into my hut. The rest of you, put out that fire before the entire village goes up in flames!"

...

The fishmonger and the blacksmith gently laid the limp form of their friend on the druid's cot. They stepped back, but didn't leave; figiting nervously. Gatifix was slowly and carefully working on taking off Cacafonix's shirt. The two larger Gauls flinched and winced whenever the bard reacted to the druid's touch.

"Will...will he be alright?" Unhygenix asked, eyeing the terrible burn marks that checkered Cacafonix's clothing.

Gatafix was concentrating very hard as he worked to free the blackened material from the bard's charred skin. It was tricky, and not without pain for the thin musician.

"I don't know," the druid replied sagely. He finally managed to dislodge the final piece of cloth from the burn. Now they could get a better look at the damage. The bard was badly bruised, and had a series of small cuts on his arms and chest. The most prominent wound, however, was a monstrous burn on his side. It looked red and terribly irritated. Pieces of singed and melted fabric still clung to it, despite Gatafix's gentile attempt to extract them. The most disturbing thing, however, was the red blotches of both fresh and dried blood. It wasn't much, but it was enough to upset Unhygenix and Fullautomatix's stomachs, and compel them to feel great pity toward their injured comrade.

Stepping over to his potions, Gatafix carefully selected a small bottle filled with a clear, greenish liquid. Indicating the cauldron over the cottage fireplace, he asked Fullautomatix to fetch some water and a cloth. The Gaul in question hurried to obey.

"Now," Gatafix said, a look of serious concentration plastered on his face. He signaled Unhygenix to come closer. "I'll need you to help me turn him on his side, so I can easily access his wound."

The fishmonger nodded, and carefully began to assist the druid in shifting the bard onto his right side, so that the burn on his left was facing up.

"There," Gatafix said with satisfaction, just as Fullautomatix arrived with the water and rag cloth. Dipping the cloth into the warm water he paused his hand and gave the two conscious Gauls a glance.

"I'm about to clean and dress the wound. He is unconscious, but I have no doubt that this will hurt him a good deal. If he reacts, I will need you to hold him down."

They both nodded numbly, each getting on either side of the bed. Gatafix set his mouth in a thin line of determination, and placed the damp cloth against his damaged skin. The reaction was strong and immediate. With a strangled gasp, Cacafonix twisted his body in an attempt to escape Gatafix's reach. Fullautomatix and Unhygenix gripped their friend and held him tightly as the druid continued to cleanse the injury, and the bard continued to struggle.

After what seemed like an eternity, the wound was clean to Gatafix's satisfaction. Cacafonix had stopped squirming as soon as he felt the druid stop touching him. He lay on his side quivering slightly. His breath came in quick, short gasps. Now fully conscious, he gazed up at Fullautomatix with a weak, pleading stare. It made the blacksmith's heart twist in his chest.

Gatafix leaned into the bard's line of vision, speaking gently. "I'm sorry, Cacafonix, but you have been injured. Your wound needed to be cleaned, and though it was painful, I believe it now to be safe from infection." He gave an apologetic look. "I'm afraid I must ask you to endure a little more so that I can wrap it, as well as check you for other injuries."

Cacafonix looked up at him with an unfocused expression, but he nodded weakly, letting the druid know he had understood.

Gatafix wrapped the burn as carefully as he could, but even then it took all the bard's remaining strength to keep from pulling away. It felt as if his side was still being engulfed in flame, burning and stinging terribly. When the druid finally finished Cacafonix fell limp against the mattress, thoroughly exhausted, but still conscience.

Gatafix then slowly inspected and treated the bard's other injuries. He washed the smaller cuts and bruises, wiped away the soot, and tried to check the musician's lungs by listening to his breathing, which was still short and raspy.

As he worked, he noticed Cacafonix's eyes slowly closing. Before long, the bard was asleep. A feverish sleep, but sleep none the less.

When he finished his examination, Gatafix stepped back with a sigh.

"He's lucky to be alive," he said, causing the other two Gaul's hearts to falter. "He has multiple bruises and cuts, a broken ankle, and a concussion. He is burned in several places, the worst being the one on his side..." He paused, hesitating to finish. "He...he also breathed in a frighteningly large amount of smoke which caused some damage to his lungs...and his throat."

Fullautomatix felt dread slip into his mind as he asked, "W-what does that mean?"

Gatafix sighed again, looking down on the injured form on his cot. "It means," he said slowly, "that Cacafonix may have lost his voice...permanently. He may never be able to speak, or sing, again."


	2. Lacking in Potions

Spacious grinned maliciously as he watched the dying flames from the within the Gaulish village fade and then go out all together as the inhabitants extinguished the terrible fire. The catapult had worked far more efficiently then he could ever have hoped. In his cruel mind he could still see the ball of flame as it flew through the air, crashing against the large tree in the center of the village. Oh, how it had burst into an inferno! It lit up the early morning sky, like a beacon of death. Spacious could hear nothing at first, but that soon changed as the Gauls awoke. Fearful screams and shouts pierced the air, drifting toward him.

The other Roman soldiers did not share their leader's joy. They had been told this weapon would be impressive, but it still shocked them as they imagined the horrible nightmare it was causing upon their enemies. The Gauls needed to be defeated. They stood between Caesar and his quest for complete rule. But to inflict such a murderous attack...It was something that they wouldn't have unleashed on their worst enemy...but they had, just now, done exactly that.

"W-what do we do now, Sir?" one Roman spoke up nervously, eyes still glued on the smoldering village.

"Now," Spacious grinning, settling back to sit against a tree as if to take a nap. "We wait."

"Wait? F-for what, Sir?"

"For them to realize just how bad off they are." He grinned even wider, closing his eyes. They other soldiers nodded slowly, still eyeing the Gaulish village.

...

_Everything was burning...fire...smoke...and pain. PAIN. **PAIN. **__It consumed him, choking him. He wanted to escape, but he couldn't. Trapped. Trapped! He was going to die!_

...

"What's wrong with him?!" Fullautomatix cried. He was desperately trying to hold a flailing Cacaofonix from falling off the cot to the hard floor.

The bard had been fine for the last hour or so. He had been sleeping quietly; breathing shallowly, but steadily. Suddenly, however, that had changed. With a series of gasps and small noises, Cacafonix had launched himself into a fit of violent kicking and squirming.

_This can't be good for him in his condition! _the blacksmith thought frantically.

Beside him, Unhygenix managed to take hold of one of the musician's wrists. Gatafix was hurriedly searching his shelves of potions, face worried and slightly panicked.

"He's probably having a nightmare," the druid mused. His eyes wandered hastily over the labeled bottles, jars, and vials. "He has a fever, which means he's probably slipped into delirium."

Unhygenix didn't like the sound of that! "Which means?!"

"He is in a disturbed state of mind, because of the fever. He doesn't know who we are at the moment, and he's most likely reliving the traumatic experience he had while in that fire." Gatafix sighed in frustration. "I'm low on nearly all my potions! Curse whoever did this!"

Fullautomatix avoided nearly being kicked in the stomach. This wasn't working! "Gatafix!"

The druid hurried to his side. "I don't have anything other then a knock out potion, and I can't risk that as of this moment. We have to calm him down!" Sitting on the bed next to the nearly hyperventilating bard, Gatafix took a hold of Cacafonix's hand, the one Unhygenix didn't already have a death grip on. Leaning in, he began to talk firmly, but softly.

"Cacafonix. Listen to me. It's Gatafix. You're alright. None of what you're feeling is real. It's alright..." The bard's movements became less frantic, though he still twitched and gasped. The druid nodded. "It's working," he said to the other two. "Say something. Let him know you're here."

The blacksmith and fishmonger looked startled by his suggestion, but nodded.

"Uh...Cacaofonix? I-it's me, Fullautomatix...Unhygenix is here too. You're safe. You don't have to be afraid anymore..."

The blacksmith felt a flare of anger toward whoever or whatever had done this. Cacafonix had looked so frightened...terrified. It was not all that unlike the expression that was on the bard's face now. It made Fullautomatix feel sick.

Cacafonix calmed considerably at the sound of his voice, much to the blacksmith's surprise. Unhygenix shared his amazement when his voice calmed the bard further.

Gatafix nodded with satisfaction. "Good, good. Keep talking to him. I'll be right back." Getting up gently from his place on the cot, Gatafix returned to his potions. He frowned at the depleted collection. Cacafonix was very warm to the touch, and it bothered Gatafix deeply. Fevers could be dangerous things. On the other hand, they could be quite harmless, but the druid didn't want to take that chance. He didn't even have a simple fever remedy. Oh, well. That couldn't be helped. There were more traditional ways of bringing a fever down.

Moving swiftly, the old man rushed outside to fetch some cold water from the well at the center of towns. Gatafix was relieved to see that Asterix, Obelix and the rest of the villagers had succeeded in putting out all the flames of the terrible fire. Cacafonix's tree was little more than a large, smoldering log. Above the lingering smoke, the morning sun began to rise into the otherwise clear, blue sky.

Getting the water quickly, the druid made his way back to his hut. The moment he stepped indoors he noticed the relief on Fullautomatix and Unhygenix's faces. His eyes shifted to their injured bard to find the fellow was no longer struggling and was sleeping once more.

"He dropped of just a moment ago," Unhygenix said. He looked tired, but no more then any of the other Gauls did at the moment. "What's that for?" He pointed to the wooden pail of water in Gatafix's hand.

"I need to bring down his fever, so we don't have another example of what we just experienced." He set the bucket down and put a hand to the bard's forehead. "He's still feverish. Pretty high too, by the feel of it."

"Is that...you know..." Fullautomatix didn't want to say what he was thinking. Gatafix was a little less subtle.

"Fatal?...Could be, if it got really bad, but I don't think that's the case here." His face grew in determination. "Not if I have anything to do about it, anyway." Taking a cloth, he soaked it in the cold water, folded it, and placed it against Cacafonix's flushed forehead. The bard inhaled sharply at the sudden cold, but he settled quickly, remaining asleep.

The three conscious Gauls remained silent for a long while. Then Unhygenix spoke softly, as if afraid to talk at all.

"Do...do you really think he's lost his...his voice, Gatafix?"

The druid's face filled with sadness and regret. "I'm afraid that it is a very great possability. We will only know for sure when he heals more. If he can speak, then my suspisions would have been groundless, but if he can't..."

"Isn't there...isn't there something you can do?" Fullautomatix whispered.

"I'm afraid not. Not without the proper potions."

"And we can't go...get more?"

Gatafix gave the blacksmith a troubled look. "Whatever did this to Cacafonix is dangerous. It would be unwise to leave the village before we know what we're up against."

"But Cacafonix-"

"Will be fine," the druid interupted gently, "For now. I will do what I can. Even _with_ all my potions, there are some injuries that I just would not be able to heal."

Fullautomatix and Unhygenix hung there heads sadly.

"Go," Gatafix urged kindly. "I'll stay with Cacafonix. Your families are probably worried about you."

As much as the Gauls didn't want to admit it, Gatafix was right. So, after making sure that they truly weren't needed, the two left to go find their wives and children.

Gatafix remained at the wounded bard's bedside, refreshing the cloth with cold water before placing it back on his friend's forehead. He shook his head sadly.

"Who could have done this?"

**,.,..,.,.,.,.,,.,.,.,.,..,..,,.,.,.,.,..,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,..,,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,..,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,**

**I'm back! Yeah, I know it's been a while. Sorry. I have a bad habit of writing several stories at once (or at least starting them), and I had to put at least one of them on the back burner for a while. Unfortunately, this one was the unlucky candidate. I plan to finish this one now, so for anyone who was waiting, I'm sorry for the delay. :) And thank you for your patience!**


	3. The Enemy

Fullautomatix could feel himself trembling. He wasn't sure why, exactly. It was a mix of things. The fire had been a shock, and Cacafonix's condition had been an even greater one. Anger intertwined with fear. Fear for his family, fear for the village, and fear for the injured bard. It was an uncomfortable feeling. One the Gauls were not very familiar with. They were the ones that usually had their enemies shaking in their boots. To have the tables turned was...unsettling. The blacksmith knew that Unhygenix felt the same way.

The two left Gatafix's hut reluctantly, though they were anxious to check on their families. They had been so wrapped up in the chaos around them that their other concerns had been forced to the back of their minds. Now, with things settling down, at least somewhat, their wives and children became their only thought.

Once they came into sight of the others they were practically swarmed as the villagers crowded around them. Many asked if Cacafonix was alright, while others asked whether Gatafix was preparing a batch of his magic potion so that they could go out and take care of the 'problem' at once. The two Gauls pushed their way through to their families before exchanging uneasy glances. Only they knew how desperate the situation was. With no potion, things were not looking good. And then there was Cacafonix...

"Cacafonix is...hurt pretty badly," Fullautomatix said sadly, hugging his wife with one arm while unconsciously finding his two children with the other.

The villagers hung their heads, but the blacksmith knew that their grief would be far greater if they knew the full extent of the bard's injuries. But it wasn't his place, nor the fishmonger's, to be the carrier of that news. Nor was it their place to tell the town of their dire situation. For now, they must keep silent. They would all know soon enough.

"Will he get better, Daddy?"

_Oh gosh._ "I...I hope so, Son."

Asterix's face became even graver then it already was. Of all the other Gauls, Asterix was the most accustomed to tragedy. As the village warrior, he had witnessed and suffered the consequences of many battles, attacks, and casaulties. Though these things rarely took place in the safety of their home, it was still second nature for him to notice the stressed hesitation in Fullautomatix's voice. Asterix knew there was more. He knew something wasn't right. But he also knew to keep silent, at least until the women and children were out of earshot.

Vitalstatistix opened his mouth to speak when another voice, loud and unmistakably non-Gaulish, broke the uneasy silence.

"Ho, there! Gauls! Show yourselves and surrender to the might of glorious Caesar!"

The villagers turned as one to face the towering wall that surrounded their home, from which behind the voice called.

_Romans_. Fullautomatix felt his anger grow, now that it had a concrete focus. The Romans had done this! Had injured their friend and scarred their village! Those rotten, filthy, no good-

Hurrying to the parapets to look out over the gates, the Gauls lined the walls. At least, the menfolk did. The women and children remained below, looking up at the men and listening nervously. The male populace of the village looked over the side of their only barrier that protected them from the outside world. They were greeted by the sight of a small regiment of Roman soldiers. The group stood on the green grass, looking up at them. The lower ranking men looked nervous, frightened even. Unhygenix almost smirked. But one Roman, dressed far more elegantly then any of the others, strutted to the front.

His fat face was beaming with a cruel smile. He gazed up at them, but for some reason it felt like he was looking down at them. As if their lives were no more significant then a colony of ants. Dirt. Scum. Worthless and unimportant.

"Good morning," Spacious grinned evilly. Every stomach on the parapet turned with his sickening smile. "I trust our little present didn't wake you?"

Silence.

"Oh, dear," the Roman said with mock regret. "I _am _sorry. I _do_ hope no one was hurt."

That was all Fullautomatix could take. "Why you-!" He fairly attempted to jump the side of the wall so he could get his hands around that-that maniacs neck! It took both Asterix and Unhygenix to hold him back. The blacksmith gathered himself, but he could see the anger in Asterix's eyes, as well as the fishmonger's. They felt as he did, and that was a small comfort. He cast his gaze about him, taking in the wrath on all their faces, finally resting his eyes on Vitalstitistix, who made his way to the front.

The chief looked very shaken, whether from anger or fear no one could tell. He was not on his shield, a rather unusual occurrence. An occurrence that showed just how much everyone had been disturbed by this whole mess. Nothing this morning had been, nor would be, normal.

Vitalstitistix looked down on Spacious with as much contempt as he could muster. "What is it you want, _Roman_?" The last word was spoken with barely contained rage, another abnormality in their leader.

Spacious rolled his eyes. Spreading his arms wide, he gestured to his regiment behind him. "Isn't it obvious, _Gaul? _We have come to accept your surrender."

"We'll never surrender to you OR your wimpy, dress-wear'n emperor!" The unmistakable shout came from Geriatrix. He leaned out over the wall, waving his cane in one hand while he shook his balled fist at the Roman with the other. It took several Gauls to keep him from tumbling over the side.

Spacious didn't even bat an eyelid. It was as if the insult, which had the other Romans knocking their knees, had gone right over his head. His smile deepened. "Oh?" he asked innocently. "Is that so?"

"Yes that's so!" the elderly Gaul fumed, preparing to teach this pompous young commander a painful lesson. Again the others stopped him from leaping. This time Fullautomatix helped pull him back.

"Easy there, you old relic," he whispered, the habit of name calling slipping in despite his anxiety. "You'll only get yourself killed!" Geriatrix gave him a withering glance before settling back into place with the others.

Vitalstitistix cleared his throat, which had gone suddenly very dry. This Roman was too cocky. Too sure of himself. He knew he had them...An uncomfortable feeling had started to knot itself in the chief's gut. Dread. "We have no intention of surrendering, Roman. So I suggest you take your regiment, as well as your cruel 'presents' with you."

"Hehehehehee," Spacious chortled, his enormous girth jiggling with each harsh burst. "Such brave threats from such poor and weak folk..."

"Weak?!" Vitalstitistix said, with no small hint of insult. "Are you aware, _Sir_, that we Gauls are known for our tremendous strength?"

Unhygenix and Fullautomatix visibly flinched at their chieftain's words. The druid's laments of having no potion ringing in their ears, they knew only too well what that would mean for the village.

"Ah, and are you aware, Gaul," the commander replied, "that you lack a certain magic potion?" He watched as he saw the Gauls exchange frightened and confused glances. "I see, you have not yet been told." He let out another evil cackle. "Go ahead, find your druid! You will only come to realize that you are without your precious liquid. You are helpless against us!"

Panic was beginning to set in the hearts of the villagers, most of all the blacksmith and the fishmonger, who knew the Roman's words were true.

Asterix finally stepped forward. This had gone far enough. "Roman!" he called down with an authority that was far larger than his stature. "Even if what you say is truth, you have not taken into account two important facts!" He detached the small, green circular canteen from his belt, holding it high so that not only the Romans could see it, but his fellow Gauls as well. "One, _I_ still have magic potion. And two, Obelix here doesn't need potion to give him the strength to send you all back to Caesar with lumps and bruises!"

The Roman soldiers standing behind Spacious gulped. One look at Obelix was all they needed to know Asterix wasn't bluffing. But their leader looked unconcerned.

"Ah, yes," Spacious grinned, "Asterix, the hero of the Gaulish village! I've heard so much about _you_. What a pleasure to finally meet you in person!"

"The _pleasure_," the little warrior replied through clenched teeth, "is all mine."

"Oh, but you see," the commander sniffed, as though bored with it all. "You underestimate me. I _have_ taken you and your fat friend into _great_ consideration. I figured that you would stand in the way of the mighty Caesar's progress. So, I took a slight...precaution."

"Precaution?"

"Mmhmmhmmhm, yes."

Vitalstitistix felt the dread within him grow. "What...what do you mean?"

"I mean, Gaul," Spacious grinned wickedly, "A pretty little precaution named...Panacea."

**,.,.,.,..,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,,.,.,.,,..,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,..,,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,..,,.**

**Once again I apologize for how long it's been since I last posted. College (sigh).**


	4. Cards on the Table

Gatafix had noticed how quiet it had gotten. All the customary sounds of village life; talking, working, arguing; they were absent from the morning. It was as odd a feeling as if all the birds and all the insects of the world suddenly fell silent. It left only an empty perception. A shadow of how things _should _be. Gatafix didn't like it...he didn't like it all. It made him want to rush outside and shout at the top of his lungs so that the dreadful quiet would be shattered. He wanted to run out there and start one of those village brawls he so disapproved of. Anything would be better then this.

But he couldn't. He had to stay with Cacafonix. And it wouldn't have done any good anyway. A glance out the window and the druid could just make out the villager's standing lined up on the parapet of the village gates. He was curious as to what they could be watching so intently.

Gatafix sighed. He would know soon enough. He sat back in a chair he had set up beside his bed, close to his injured friend.

The light sound of movement caused the white bearded man to turn back to his patient. Cacafonix was shifting, his mind trying to make its way back to consciousness. He slightly tossed his head from side to side weakly. Gatafix gently laid a hand on the bard's arm, careful not to touch any of the angry-looking burns. A moment later, Cacafonix's eyes fluttered open.

He just sort of stared into space at first; his expression blank for the most part, with just a hint of confusion. The eyes themselves were unfocused, roaming the ceiling uncertainly.

"Cacafonix..." The druid's voice was softer then he had intended, and the bard didn't hear it. He tried again, louder, but still gentle. "Cacafonix?"

The thin musician's gaze turned to him at once, struggling to focus on his face. His expression became even more confused, greatly worrying Gatafix.

"Cacafonix, it's me...Gatafix."

Much to the druid's relief, the bard's confusion quickly became a look of recognition. He gave a weak smile, trying to sit up. The smile faded at once as the many cuts, bruises, burns and other injuries practically screamed in protest. The pain alone was nearly enough to render him unconscious once again. He fell limply back onto the mattress, breathing heavily. That's when he noticed how much his throat hurt.

"Don't do that, Cacafonix!" Gatafix said in alarm. He hadn't expected his patient to try to move. "You are very hurt, you must stay still!" His voice softened as the obviously sharp discomfort subsided in the musician's face. "Now, you are in pain?" A silly question, but he asked nonetheless.

Cacafonix nodded miserably. He didn't even try to speak, his throat was too sore. It was painful enough just moving his head.

The druid shook his own sadly. "That is not very surprising. You...you were badly burned. And your right ankle is broken." He stopped there. Causing undo stress in his patient would do little for the bard's health. He decided not to tell him about the other...possible injuries.

Cacafonix was slowly beginning to remember what had happened. He could feel the throb in his leg, though he hadn't noticed it until Gatafix had mentioned it. He could also feel the burning sensation all over his body, due to the places where the fire had managed to get him. _The fire! The flying ball of flame coming...coming at him! Can't get away! Pain! Fire!...Help..._

"Cacafonix?...Cacafonix!" The voice cut into his thoughts. His eyes focused back on Gatafix, who had somehow shifted from his chair to being seated on the bed, griping the bard's wrists gently, but firmly. The bard blinked a few times, before settling back into the cot, weak and terribly tired.

Gatafix slowly released his hold, but remained on the bed. He was really quite alarmed. One minute Cacafonix had been perfectly fine, the next he had become withdrawn into his own world. The bard had turned terribly pale and had started shaking. It had taken a lot to snap him out of it, which frightened Gatafix far more then he would ever have admitted to anyone. It also bothered him that the bard had not yet spoken. Even in the throws of whatever invisible terror he had just experienced, Cacafonix had remained absolutely...silent. Just like the village outside.

Gatafix was relieved, however, that, if Cacafonix had indeed lost his voice, the bard was still blissfully unaware for the moment. His throat probably hurt, which meant he would refrain from even trying, at least until the pain went down. The druid sighed as he watched Cacafonix's eyes slowly closed in sleep once more, thoroughly exhausted from his short time conscious. Gatafix only hoped he was wrong; that Cacafonix still had his voice.

...,...,,.,..,.,.,,.,.,..,,.,..,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,,.,.,.,.,..,.,.,,,.,.,.,..,.,.,.,

A shocked silence enveloped those on the parapet. Spacious grinned as he saw the total disbelief and fear flit across the face of every Gaul.

Suddenly, Soporifix, Panacea's father, called out. His voice was mostly filled with anger, but the slightest hint of panic was audible. "Y-you're lying! My-my daughter lives in Condatum!"

"Indeed," the Roman smirked. He motioned toward the woods behind him. "Bring forth the prisoner!"

The Gauls felt their hearts sink as a soldier emerged from the forest leading a very familiar figure.

"Panacea!"

"Father!"

The beautiful woman looked up at her parent's frantic cry. Her eyes met his and for a moment it was as if only they existed. Panacea wanted nothing more then to fling herself into her father's arms, as Soporifix wanted nothing more than to hold her.

Panacea struggled to get away from her captor, but her hands were tied firmly behind her, and the guard held her arm tightly, making any chance of escape impossible. The soldier brought her to stand beside the Roman Commander.

"As you can see," Spacious gestured, "She is _not _in Condatum." He cupped her chin in his hand, giving her a sickening smile.

"Leave her alone!" Everyone jumped as Obelix's booming voice broke out into the morning air. Even the Roman regiment stepped back, startled.

Obelix felt positively sick. When the Roman had mentioned Panacea he had turned pale. When she had been brought into sight, he had become as white as a sheet. Everyone knew that Obelix had once had feelings for Soporifix's daughter. When Panacea had gone and married Tragicomix, Obelix had been very disappointed, though happy for the new couple. His love for her had not died, however. It had simply changed. He loved her now as though she were a sister. A little sister. One he would defend with his life. "Leave Panacea alone!"

Spacious removed his hand and glared up at the Gauls. All humor had left his voice. "You will surrender to us within a week! If you do not..." He turned to Panacea with an evil grin, "She will die."

A collective gasp went up from both the Gauls and the Roman soldiers.

"If you try to save her, she will _die._ If you try to escape, she will _die_. If you try to get help..._She. Will. Die_." The commander smiled. "One week."

Waving to his men, Spacious retreated into the depths of the forest. Panacea sent her friends one final frightened glance before she too disappeared into the woods.

...,.,.,.,.,..,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,,.,.,.,.,..,.,.,.,.,.,,

The women and children watched as the dazed men made it back down from the parapet. They had caught snippets of conversation from above and beyond the wall, but nothing that they could piece together.

Impedimenta took Vitalstitistix's hand in her own, sensing that something was terribly wrong.

The men, shaken and terribly worried, recounted what had taken place. The women's eyes widened and they lay their hands over their mouths in horror. The children, forgotten for the moment, heard their desperate situation and clung fearfully to their parents' legs.

Obelix and Asterix stood to the side, watching; trying to process everything that had happened since they had first awoken. It was like a nightmare...but they couldn't wake up. Because they were not asleep.

"A-Asterix?" Obelix whispered, his normally cheerful and kind face twisted into a look of painful desperation. "Wh-what are we-" He broke off, unable to finish.

Asterix shook his head, his eyes falling on the still smoldering ruins of Cacafonix's tree. "I don't know, Obelix...I-I really don't know..."

**,.,.,.,.,.,..,,..,.,,.,.,.,.,.,..,..,.,,.,..,.,,.,..,.,,.,.,.,.,..,.,.,.,,.,.,.,.,..,.,.,,..,.,,..,..,,.,.,.,.,..,.,..,.,.,.,.**

**Here we go! Another chapter, while I have the time to write! I don't have as much homework this weekend, and I intend to make full use of that spare time!**


	5. A Swapping of Events

"What are we going to _do_!" Impedimenta wailed. She and the other women of the village stood huddled with their families, absolutely terrified. Many of them were still in shock, unable to fully comprehend how dire their situation truly was.

Vitalstitistix looked about him, taking in the frightened villagers. He felt small; weak. He hated not being able to do anything. Hated being in charge but unable to put his leadership to good use. His eyes fell on Asterix. The small warrior seemed greatly distressed, but the chief could see the wheels in the Gaul's head already turning; trying to come up with a way to help. Vitalstitistix knew they needed to do _something_.

"Asterix," he said, attempting to hide the fear in his voice and not quite succeeding. "Round up the others for a meeting. We'll gather in my hut. This has got to be figured out..."

"Yes, Chief." The little Gaul started milling about, approaching certain citizens of the village who he knew Vitalstitistix would want at the council. He informed Geriatrix of the meeting, as well as Unhygenix and Fullautomatix, once they could leave their families. Impedimenta was already aware of her husband's request and, whether Vitalstitistix wanted her there or not, she was going to attend. That left only Gatafix and Cacafonix. Of course, the bard wouldn't be able to participate, going by what the blacksmith had said.

Asterix suddenly realized he had not yet been able to check on the village minstral. He had been too busy conducting repairs and calming the others. Then there had been their confrontation with the Romans...

"Come on, Obelix," Asterix said, with more cheerfulness than he felt. "We must check on Cacafonix and tell Gatafix about the meeting."

Obelix muttered something too low for him to hear. In fact, Asterix took note that his large friend had not spoken for a good while.

"Obelix..." He paused, uncertain. "It's...it's going to be alright." He didn't want his friend to worry. Obelix wasn't meant to worry. He was like a child in that way. Life was a pleasant world of colors, smells and food. Asterix couldn't bare to see his friend like this; brow creased in a serious frown. He needed Obelix to be himself. He needed Obelix to be that pillar of positive energy. He needed Obelix to believe everything would work out fine in the end. _I just wish I could believe it._

Obelix lifted his gaze from the ground to look into his small friend's eyes. Asterix was looking up at him with concern. He wasn't quite sure why. He was strong. He was biggest (though not fat!). In all the troubles that were plaguing the village, Obelix couldn't find it in his nature to worry about his own safely.

In truth, he was more worried about Asterix. The little Gaul was tough. He was quick. He was smart. But Asterix wasn't strong. Oh, he was when they had potion, but Obelix had seen his friend without the saving strength of the magic fluid. Without it, Asterix was normal. He was less than normal. Of all the other Gauls, Asterix was the smallest. Without the potion, he'd be the weakest.

Then there was the others to consider. They weren't warriors. Sure, they had beaten the Romans around a bit over the years, but that, again, had been the potions doing. Without it...they didn't stand a chance. And what were they going to do about poor Panacea...?

"Obelix? You alright?"

Shaking the troubling thoughts from his head, Obelix looked back down at his friend. He gave a nod, causing Asterix to sigh. "Let's go, Obelix."

...

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

Asterix gave the door of Gatafix's hut a nervous rap. He stood back as he and Obelix waited to be answered. It was very quiet inside. A moment or so later they heard the soft, shuffling step of the village druid approaching the door.

_Kreeeee._ The wooden frame opened with a noisy protest, breaking into the silence. It seemed so loud. It almost made Obelix want to place a finger to his lips and shush the door angrily. He noticed Asterix flinch at the grating sound of rusty hinges.

Gatafix peeked out and, seeing who it was, opened the door wide enough to let them both through. He had to swing the door open all the way to allow Obelix to pass.

"Oh, Asterix and Obelix," the druid sighed, almost as if he were relieved to see them. "Come in."

"Thank you." The two Gauls stepped through the threshold into the little, straw roofed cottage.

The first thing Asterix noticed was how dimly lit the room was. Most of the windows had been blocked with blankets, and there were no lamps burning. The only source of light was the warm glow of the embers in the fireplace. For a moment, it was hard to see much more than that. He'd have to wait for his eyes to adjust.

"I didn't want Cacafonix to be disturbed by the bright sunshine outdoors," Gatafix said, taking note of the Gaul's questioning expression. "He's asleep, and it was streaming through the window."

"How is he?"

Gatafix sighed again, spreading his arms wide. "I only wish I knew. He's stable at the moment and out of immediate lungs still sound dreadful, but they have cleared up a little." He motioned for them to follow him to the corner where Cacafonix was sleeping.

Asterix's heart sunk at the sight. He hadn't really been able to see the extent of the damage his friend had received that morning when they had rescued him. It had been too dark. Now, he could see the painful looking burns, or, at least, the thick wrappings that covered them. Wounds that required such careful and extensive binding could not be insignificant.

The bard was sound asleep, but his face was still screwed up in pain, causing Obelix to wonder if that expression would ever go away. "He's...he's so still."

Gatafix nodded in agreement. "That he is. Though this is better than earlier. He was kicking and flailing all over the place. Took three of us to hold him down and calm him."

"That's when Unhygenix and Fullautomatix were helping you?" Asterix inquired, eyes still locked on Cacafonix.

Gatafix nodded once more. "Yes."

"Has he woken up at all since then?"

"Yes, a little while ago. He was conscious for about fifteen minutes. He seemed all right...for the most part."

"For the _most part_?" Asterix caught the muttered words. "What do you mean?"

"He.." The druid struggled for the right word. "He became...unalert."

"Unalert?"

"Yes. He just kind of drifted into his own mind. At least, I assume that is what happened. He became pale and frightened. But he snapped out of it when I called his name, though it did take more than one try."

Asterix shook his head sadly. _Can things possibly get any worse._

"What's happening out there?" Gatafix asked, tilting his head toward the door. "I saw you all looking over the wall."

_Better tell him._ "Our attackers gave us a call," Asterix replied. He saw Obelix stiffen slightly by his side. The few moments that had distracted them from the troubles outside dissipated at once.

Gatafix seemed both concerned and intrigued. "Who were they?"

"Romans," Obelix growled lowly, offering no explanation for his angry attitude. The druid took in his animosity with a look of surprise. Obelix rarely grew enraged, but his expression was unmistakable.

"I see," Gatafix replied, his own temper rising. "And what did they say?"

Asterix fidgeted with the gourd secured to his belt. "They wanted us to surrender."

"Those fiends!" The druid hissed. "They think they have a right to things that don't belong to them! That they can control our lives! Destroy our homes!" Cacafonix shifted in his sleep with a moan, reminding Gatafix to keep his voice down. "...Hurt our friends," he ended sadly.

"Gatafix," Asterix whispered, dread once again filling his soul. "It gets worse."

The druid's eyes snapped to him with an intensity that frightened him. "What do you mean?"

"They...they..."

"They've got Panacea, Gatafix," Obelix said, the pain evident in his low voice. "If we don't surrender..." His voice cracked slightly. "...they'll...they'll kill her."

"By Toutatis..." The druid sunk down into his chair weakly. This day was becoming more complicated and more terrible with each hour.

"That's why we came," Asterix added quickly, remembering their main reason for visiting...well, one reason. "Vitalstitistix wants to have a gathering to talk about what to do." He gave Gatafix an apologetic look. "I'm afraid we will need you there, Gatafix."

"And I'm afraid that I will not be unable to attend."

"But Gatafix-"

"I cannot leave Cacafonix here alone."

_True._ Asterix hadn't thought of that. No one had. The injured bard would need Gatafix. No one else could care for him properly.

The smallest Gaul mulled the problem around in his mind for a moment, then an idea struck him. "Why don't we have the meeting here?" He saw the hesitation in the druid's eyes. "It's the only way, Gatafix. We need you. This way you can stay with Cacafonix and take part in the meeting."

After a few seconds, the druid nodded his consent. "As long as Vitalstitistix doesn't mind, I find no reason not to proceed in that manner."

"Good," Asterix said hurriedly, already pulling Obelix toward the door. "We'll go get the others."

Gatafix watched them leave, then his face took on a thoughtful expression. His mind shifted back to their situation. The Romans. Panacea. Cacafonix. Things were looking pretty bad...and it wasn't getting any better.

**...**

**There we go, another chapter! Please don't forget to review, it is very helpful to me. :)**


	6. A Troubling Situation

It wasn't hard to get the others to agree to hold the meeting in Gatafix's hut. Especially when Asterix told them the druid's reason for having to remain there. Their hearts softened immediately, and they had hurried over at once. Soporifix showed up to join them and, since it was his daughter being held prisoner, they agreed to let him attend.

Gatafix had set up a ring of chairs by the hearth, giving everyone a place to sit in the glow of the burning embers. Each Gaul took their seat, sending concerned glances toward the corner where Gatafix was ministering to the wounded bard.

Gatafix finished rewrapping one of Cacafonix's burns, then came to join the group. They all looked exhausted; worry, and lack of a full night's sleep taking its toll. They couldn't even seem to sit straight, instead slouching against the chair, each other, or anything they happened to be sitting next to.

"He's fine for the moment," Gatafix said, reading their looks of concern directed toward the minstrel. Even though his fear for Cacafonix was great, Gatafix knew they had to focus their attention on the Romans. "So," he said, trying to shift the conversation, "I have been told of our most...unwelcome guests."

Vitalstitistix was silent for a moment. "Gatafix...are we out of magic potion?"

The druid sighed, holding a fist to his tired head. "Except for that which Asterix holds, there is no more."

The other's faces filled with fear as their hearts filled with an overwhelming jolt of dread. Everything that Roman commander had said was true. They really were helpless. They all sat in silence for a long time.

"Then we're finished then."

Asterix's eyes flew to their chieftain, disbelief evident on his face. "We can't just give up!"

"But they've left us no choice!"

Asterix stood angrily, glaring daggers at them all. "Choice!" he yelled, "A choice between what?!" Gatafix signalled him to keep his voice down, and the little Gaul only complied for fear of waking Cacafonix. "If you think surrendering will save all our lives, you're wrong," he hissed. He knew he was out of line, but he didn't care. "What do you think they'll do with us, eh? Incorporate us into their way of life? I don't think so!"

"He's right," Gatafix interjected. "We'll all be sold as slaves. Or worse, sent to the arena."

"We've been a thorn in Caesar's side far too long for him to just brush his hatred of us under a rug!" Asterix looked the chief in the eye. "We _can't _surrender."

Vitalstitistix hung his head. He knew Gatafix and Asterix were right. The Romans would not treat them kindly. _That's an understatement._ They'd parish for sure. But, if they stayed, wouldn't they die as well?

"How much time did they give us?" Gatafix asked, breaking into the chieftain's thoughts.

"A week."

The druid nodded sagely. "And how much food have we got stored here in the village?"

"A good portion of vegetables," Geriatrix responded, eyes never leaving the floor. "But no meat."

It was true they never stored meat in the village, other than during the winter. But it was summer; they hadn't even started storing that yet.

"And those vegetables won't last too long, not with all these mouths to feed," Unhygenix commented. "Not to mention that some may go bad before too long."

"Like you care about things being fresh," Fullautomatix said under his breath.

"Ah," Impedimenta said quickly, trying to defuse what she knew could become a fierce argument. "Couldn't we just send someone out to rescue Panacea and bring back some meat?"

"I'm afraid not," Asterix said sadly. "The minute we leave the village they'll know, and kill Panacea."

The thought was horrible. Panacea was one of the sweetest, most beautiful woman any of them had ever come across. To lose her was...unthinkable.

Soporifix had remained very quiet. His mind was on his daughter and he cringed at Asterix's words. He looked up when the silence stretched on and realized they were all looking at him. Their faces were full of concern and sympathy.

"Please..." the fatherly Gaul whispered, eyes pleading. "Please...save my daughter..."

The plea tore into their hearts. They all looked away, afraid that their sorrow would show in their expressions.

"...Please..."

...

The summer sun shone down through the leaves, casting waving patterns of dark and light on the forest floor. Birds sang cheerfully, and nearby the croaking of frogs in a stream could be heard. Colorful butterflies fluttered through the foliage, weaving between the bright flowers that graced the thick green grass. It was beautiful.

But its beauty was lost on Panacea. She didn't even notice.

The woman sat on the ground, knees drawn up to her chest. Her blue and white dress was soiled and her golden hair was frizzled and untidy. She glared up defiantly at the two soldiers guarding her. They appeared unnerved in her presence; or at least one of them did. Or perhaps they were afraid of the Gaul's wrath for capturing her and holding her prisoner. _Humph! In that case they've a right to be frightened! _Panacea knew that her friends would not take her situation lightly, but she feared for them. Oh, if only she hadn't been caught! The woman thought back to that dreadful day...

She had just left her home city, Condatum, to visit her friends and father in the Gaulish village. It had been a long time since she had traveled to see them, and she had been planning the trip for weeks. So, apparently, had the Romans. They must have been watching her every move; it was the only possible explanation. As she neared the border of Gaul, she had been ambushed. She didn't even have time to shout for help before she was gagged and whisked away.

Tragicomix wouldn't be missing her any time soon, assuming that she was safe, visiting with the village. No help would be coming from him for at least a week, and by then...it would be too late. Panacea felt like planting her face in her hands and having a good cry, but she wouldn't give her captors that satisfaction.

And so she continued to glare at them.

The two Roman soldiers who were at their post were an odd pair. One, tall, muscular and serious, paid her no attention, no matter how much she bored her eyes into him. He stood straight as a board, hand on his sword as if at any moment the 'savage' woman would leap upon him like a wild animal.

The second guard was far shorter. In fact, he was dwarfed by his companion. His stature was thin and small. He glanced back at her, nervously wringing his hands as she turned her intense gaze to him. He seemed to wither beneath it, and Panacea felt a mild sense of satisfaction in his reaction.

But then her mind wandered back to the frightened look on the faces of her friends and, especially, her father. What were they going to do? The Romans had them pinned down hard, and, if there was any truth in the Roman commander's words, they had no potion to fight with. That frightened Panacea terribly. It meant that the Commander had thought everything very carefully, timing each stage of their attack perfectly.

Her eyes fell on the catapult that stood in the short grass on the other side of the glen from her. Tall, stocky, and extremely imposing, the wooden structure gave a very menacing impression. Panacea shivered. Spacious had gloated about it when she had first arrived, and she had been forced to watch in horror as it launched a ball of fiery stone through the air, smashing right into the tall treehouse at the center of her beloved village. She had gasped in terror, knowing that, at that time in the morning, its inhabitant would be there, asleep. Cacafonix couldn't have lived through something like that...

Anger filled her once more as that thought sharpened her hatred of her captors.

**...**

**Sorry this chapter is so short. :)**


	7. Realizations

_Cacafonix stood in the center of the village, before all his friends and neighbors. He stood tall and happy, as he looked at their kind and loving faces._

_He opened his mouth to sing...but nothing came out. Not a sound. Fear gripped his soul as a pain began to spread all over his body. And along with it came the all-to-familiar nightmare._

_The sky began to glow blood red. Fire seemed to shoot out all around the village. Screams filled the air, as panic filled the Gauls. Cacafonix felt like the walls of the village were closing in on him, like a monster, threatening to engulf him. Again he tried to speak; call out; anything! But he couldn't utter a word._

_The pain in his body increased as a shadow started to spread across the ground toward him. He wanted to run, but his legs felt weak and wouldn't obey him. The shadow came closer and closer, until suddenly he was plunged into complete and total darkness..._

...

Cacafonix snapped back to consciousness with a gasp. He lay there panting, his skin coated in a glistening sheet of perspiration. His heart was beating at an incredible rate, to the point where each thump was a pounding pain that only added to every other hurt he was feeling. It was as if fire was coursing through his body, burning along every nerve and vain. His arms hurt. His legs hurt. His head and throat and abdomen and back hurt. By Toutatis, it even hurt to blink!

He lay there, waiting for the discomfort to pass. It was an intense stinging sensation, that increased in some places, but, as far as he could tell, covered every inch of him. After a minute or so it lessened, but it didn't disappear completely. It was a throbbing backdrop in the stage of his senses. Once the agony that was fogging his vision cleared, he carefully began to take in his surroundings. He lifted his head off the pillow just enough to discover that it was a bad idea. His vision spun, causing the room to tilt and turn in a sickening manner. After it finally stopped, he decided to carefully turn his head, rather then try lifting it again.

_This is...Gatafix's hut,_ he thought to himself, his confusion growing. He recognized the room full of hanging herbs and remedies, drying from the rafters. On the hearth lay the great cauldron that Gatafix always brewed their magic potion in. The druid himself was no where to be seen. _But what am I doing..._

Suddenly, all the memories resurfaced in his mind. A flood of still images flashed through his mind's eye. _The ball of fire. The pain. The fear_. His brain raced to try and assimilate all the emotions that were all at once mercilessly coursing through him. His breathing increased in speed, as did his heart. It made the pain more acute, but at the moment he didn't care. All he cared about was whether these memories were real. Were they events that really had taken place, or where they the remains of some terrible dream? He fervently hoped they were the latter, but something inside of him insisted otherwise. And there was the pain...

Gritting his teeth, the bard threw off the covers and agonizingly raised himself up. Dizziness swept over him immediately; leaving him sitting with his hands grasping the covers as if it would make it all go away. After a moment, it passed, and Cacafonix eased his legs over the edge of the bed until he felt the cold wooden floor beneath his bare feet. This time he felt only a little lightheaded, but as soon as his right foot touched the ground he was presented with a new pain. It spread up his leg in the form of a sharp spasm. He would have fallen to the floor had not he grabbed the bedpost to hold his weight.

Bracing himself against the cot, the bard finally looked down at himself. He gasped slightly as he took in the various bandages and the cumbersome splint that immobilized the obviously broken ankle. He was covered in linen; some wrapped around his knees, one arm was mostly covered, and his chest and side weren't even visible under the layers of cream-colored gauze. It made Cacafonix' stomach churn just imagining what was under those dressings. From the amount he was covered and the pain he was feeling, he knew it couldn't be pretty.

Knowing he was most likely supposed to be in bed, but too curious and troubled to stay there, alone with so many unanswered questions, Cacafonix fisted both hands and forced himself up until he stood. His balance was off, and the pain increased tenfold, but he decided to ignore it. He had to know. He had to.

Each step was agonizing, one unsteady foot in front of the other, but the bard finally made it to the door.

It was morning, but the sun seemed dulled somehow. The sky was overcast, but not enough to cast such a depressive shadow. A sort of hazy fog was rolling over the gates from the world outside the village. For some reason, it felt threatening.

_Cacafonix felt like the walls of the village were closing in on him, like a monster, threatening to engulf him. Again he tried to speak; call out; anything! But he couldn't utter a word._

A growing panic began to surface in the musician's heart as the horrors of his nightmares flooded back to him. It mixed with the images of...of...reality? Or tricks of a stressed and pained mind? He suddenly found himself rushing, at least to the best of his ability, toward his tree hut. A sinking dread was spreading through his mind, and he suddenly felt desperate to see his home, as if it held all the answers. And maybe it did.

The village was deserted, as it was obviously too early for anyone to be up and about. In fact, the first rays of light were just beginning to rise out from the horizon, but it would take time for it to pierce the thick, swirling fog.

Suddenly, the bard came to an abrupt halt. _Oh, no...no..._

His eyes roamed the blackened pit that gaped where his house had once stood. The tall, powerful trunk; the thin, spiraling stairs; the warm wooden platform, and the beautiful little cottage far above the village; it was all gone. Not a twig remained. Not a leaf. Not a board. All Cacafonix's belonging: his bed, his clothes, his music, and even his beloved lyre, no longer existed. Wiped from the face of the world in a fiery nightmare that was more real than the bard could ever have dreaded.

The wind blew through the village, rustling his hair, slamming cold against his unprotected skin. But the bard barely noticed. He stood, frozen to the spot, gazing with wide eyes at the pile of ash that had once been his home. His mind wandered numbly through all the happy memories he had had there, high in the air where each sunrise and sunset was his to watch. It was something he had always treasured...and now it was gone. His home was nothing more than a smoldering heap of charred wood, if even that.

"Cacafonix?" _Someone had awakened. _"Cacafonix!" His mind was so jumbled Cacafonix couldn't be sure, but it sounded like Fullautomatix's voice.

The bard didn't turn. Instead he continued to stare weakly at the spot where his cottage had once stood tall and proud above all the others.

Fullautomatix had always been an early riser. It, in his mind, had always given him an edge in the market. He would always catch the very first customers, something that he gladly rubbed in Unhygenix' face. This morning, however, he had had a different motive. The troubles from the day before had followed the blacksmith to bed, making it impossible to sleep. He had tossed and turned all night long, his mind wandering over the thoroughly unpleasant situation. A sense of growing anxiety intertwined with fear. One day. One whole day had gone by. They had found no answers. No way to save Panacea. No way to escape the Romans. Nothing. It weighed heavily on the smith's heart, as it did with all the other Gauls.

Figuring that he was keeping his wife awake with all his fidgiting, and hoping some inspiration might come to him, Fullautomatix had gotten up and dressed to take a stroll within the quiet village. He hadn't been going long when he spotted a figure, standing perfectly still. Squinting against the glare of the fog and the rising sun, the blacksmith realized with surprise, and a bit of horror, that it was Cacafonix. He called out, but the bard didn't even seem to hear him.

Jogging over, Fullautomatix came to stand beside his dazed friend. The look of total shock and disbelief written on the bard's face was painful to see. It was as if someone had taken Cacafonix' soul and beat it to a pulp, throwing it back into the world, trampled and wounded, much like the thin musician's frail-looking body.

Fullautomatix hesitantly raised a hand and gently laid it on Cacafonix' shoulder. The blacksmith didn't want to disturb him, but he was truly worried. Cacafonix was leaning unsteadily, and shivering, as though at any moment be might just collapse. The morning air was chilly, and the bard still had no shirt, as it had been ruined in the fire. Fullautomatix shuddered at the memory of Gatafix working the charred material from the musician's scorched side. Cacafonix was covered in bandages, but that did little to protect him from the cool breeze.

Fullautomatix knew the bard had to be in pain. His mind subconsciously went through the list of his friend's injuries. _Burns, cuts, bruises, and something about a broken_ ankle... The blacksmith looked down and discovered that Cacafonix was indeed favoring one limb over the other.

Cacafonix didn't react to the smith's touch. In fact, there wasn't any sign that the bard knew he was even there at all. He just continued staring into space, standing weakly with shoulders slumped. And that frightened Fullautomatix more than anything else.

Realizing he'd have to help his friend a little more forcefully, Fullautomatix gently took hold of both Cacafonix' shoulders and carefully started steering him back toward Gatafix' hut. After about five steps Cacafonix did exactly what he'd expected from the moment he'd seen the bard swaying on his feet: Cacafonix collapsed.

Fullautomatix gave a light grunt as the bard's full weight was suddenly against him. Cacafonix wasn't very heavy, but it was a surprise nonetheless.

Shifting the musician in his arms, Fullautomatix carried him bridal style the rest of the soon as they crossed the hut's threshold Fullautomatix began yelling for for Gatafix.

The druid emerged from a room far in the back of the cottage, a look of surprise and anxiety painted on his bearded face. When he saw the bard he rushed forward to assist the blacksmith in placing Cacafonix back on the cot in the corner.

"What happened?"

"He made it outside somehow," Fullautomatix answered , voice strained with worry. "He was looking at where his tree used to be." The blacksmith looked down and was surprised to find Cacafonix looking up at him. He had suspected, when the bard had collapsed, that he had passed out. Apparently, that wasn't the case, as Cacafonix was definitely conscious. His legs must has simply given out.

Cacafonix seemed distressed, which wasn't a surprise, but it seemed to be more than that. He appeared to be trying to say something. As Fullautomatix watched, a feeling of apprehension grew within him.

Gatafix shook his head sadly, unaware that the bard was awake, as he had his back turned as he fetched some extra bandages. "He must have been starting to remember what happened yesterday morning." Things just kept getting worse. The village was surrounded by the enemy. Cacafonix was badly injured and possibly suffering mild trauma for all he knew. They had little to no potions whatsoever. Panacea was in the hands of a madman, and-

The druid's thoughts were suddenly broken when someone tightly gripped the back of his wrist. Turning and looking down, Gatafix found it was Cacafonix, who had somehow managed to sit up and now had a death hold on his arm. The bard's face was filled with a combination of fear, horror, pain and confusion.

Gatafix sighed sadly as the mixed emotions in Cacafonix' features slowly melted into panic. Cacafonix was trying to say something, but couldn't.

The druid knew two things for sure at that moment:

That Cacafonix had indeed lost his voice...

...and that Cacafonix knew it.

_Again he tried to speak; call out; anything! But he couldn't utter a word._

**...**

**Whew! That one took a while! A little longer than the other ones for once. :) **


	8. A Step in the Right Direction

Cacafonix sat motionless on the bedside as Gatafix changed the old bandage around his wounded side. No matter how careful the druid was being, Gatafix knew it had to hurt. The skin was healing, but still looked terribly irritated. Splotches of bright pink contrasted with the pale white flesh around it. Yet, even as he gently lay the clean linen against the painful-looking burn, Cacafonix did not even flinch.

The bard's mind was filled with questions he knew he couldn't express. It was as if losing his voice was like losing all connection with the world around him. He wasn't sure what he was feeling. A heavy weight seemed to have settled in his heart. It was an ache; a sensation he had never felt before. A deep bitterness swirled there as well, or maybe it was just plain anger. An anger that was aimless, not directed at anything, and yet was there, demanding to be expressed. He was mad, but didn't seem to have the energy or will to direct it at any one focus. It was just there. The emotions made him dizzy and confused. A mess of intense emotion that thundered within him, but on the outside was completely calm.

Gatafix gently finished tying off the clean linen he had wrapped around the bard's side, careful not to secure it too tightly. The druid was watching Cacafonix, and what he saw worried him.

When he had discovered his loss of voice, Cacafonix had panicked. It had taken both Gatafix and Fullautomatix a full hour to calm him down. Now, he just sat there, staring into space. He just seemed to go blank, not reacting to anything they said or did. But Gatafix knew that Cacafonix was indeed feeling something. He had simply become so focused on his inner thoughts and emotions that he had outwardly shut down. It was the bard's way of coping; this Gatafix knew. And, for the moment, it was working.

The bard was dissociating himself from his troubles, which, while helping to keep Cacafonix calm, wasn't necessarily healthy. Holding one's emotions inside never was, and eventually they would force their way to the surface.

Fullautomatix still stood by the bedside. He looked completely worn. His blond hair was ruffled and untidy. He looked different without his characteristic apron tied about his waist, making his clothes hang rather loosely about his tired frame. He leaned against the bedpost, struggling to keep his eyes open. Sleep threatened to overtake him, but he fought to keep it at bay.

The blacksmith observed Cacafonix with worry. The bard seemed so distant. It just didn't sit well with Fullautomatix. Cacafonix was normally a very outgoing personality, who never had trouble making himself heard.

Gatafix finished and stepped back with a sigh.

"How long will he stay like...this?" Fullautomatix asked, gesturing toward the slumped figure.

The druid shook his head. "I really can't tell you for certain. He's feeling overwhelmed by what has happened in the last two days. He doesn't know how to deal with it. That's why he's become so...unresponsive."

"Isn't there anything we can do?"

Again Gatafix sighed. "Not without my potions. The only thing we really can do is make him comfortable. He's in a state of shock, but I fear that may not be all."

Fullautomatix ran a hand through his ruffled hair. "Why am I not surprised." Everything had been going wrong lately; why shouldn't this be any different?

"He went through a terrible ordeal the night his tree burned down," Gatafix continued. "It is more than likely that there will be some repercussions from it."

"Repercussions?"

"He may suffer some rather less than pleasant traumatic symptoms. In fact, his odd condition at this moment might be attributed to that very thing."

Fullautomatix wasn't completely sure what that meant, but he knew it couldn't be good. "Then he _will_ snap out of this?"

"Oh, I have no doubt he will," Gatafix assured him. "When his mind feels ready to face reality." The druid moved over to reach up and grab a bundle of herbs that were hanging above him. They, unfortunately, had no magical or medicinal properties. Taking it down, Gatafix paused, gazing at the tough, green shrubs in his hands. "When he does 'snap' out of this," he said softly, "He is going to need us to help him...maybe even more than now. His life's been turned upside down, Fullautomatix...and that is a difficult journey to travel alone."

"He won't be alone," the blacksmith said, his own quiet voice matching the druid's low one. He sat down on the cot beside Cacafonix. The bard didn't even bat an eye.

...

Obelix was never one to be particularly agitated. He was a simple soul, who didn't understand much of the world and how it worked, but that had never bothered him. To Obelix, life was a colorful place, full of tasty wild boar and plenty of harmless Romans to pound. Life was good; peaceful. Safe.

That frail image had been shattered.

Obelix sat on the shaded bench outside of Asterix's hut, staring at the dirt beneath his feet, hands hanging limply in front of him. The world felt dimmed and void. Worry ate away at him. Worry for Cacafonix. Worry for Panacea. Worry for Asterix. Worry for everyone. Suddenly the world didn't seem like the wonderful place it had once appeared to be.

Asterix sat on the seat beside his large friend. He was dwarfed next to Obelix's immense height and girth, but even as far as normal Gauls went, Asterix was very small. His feet didn't even touch the ground when he sat on the wooden bench. His hands were clasped loosely in front of him, settled between his knees. The wings on his helmet drooped low, adding to the sad appearance his posture suggested.

The blond haired Gaul was deep in thought, also occupied with the ground beneath him, as he strove to come up with a plan; anything that might get them out of their desperate situation.

"Asterix, we're in big trouble, aren't we?"

Asterix nodded slowly, without looking up. "Yes." His voice made him seem even smaller. He stared off into the distance, silent for a moment. The sky was still overcast, not allowing much light through the haze, but what little did make it through warmed him. Birds chirped in the forest, and, every once in a while, a gull could be heard out at sea. It was a peaceful day, as far as outward displays were concerned, but beneath it all Asterix knew everything was not alright.

They had all been told by Fullautomatix about Cacafonix walking through the village that morning. How the bard had managed to get as far as his tree, no one could guess. Their friend was awake now...at least, to a degree. But there was also Panacea...How was she faring? They didn't even know. She could be hurt. _She could already be dead..._

Suddenly Asterix slammed his fist down on the pine bench. The rough impact hurt, but he ignored it. "We've got to do something, Obelix," he declared. "We've got to at least try!"

His outburst made the larger Gaul jump in surprise. "But if we try anything the Romans will..." he couldn't even finish.

"We'll all die if we don't find a way out of this, Obelix."

The big Gaul nodded slowly. Asterix was right of course. He was right, but that didn't mean Obelix had to like the idea. Quite frankly, the well-covered Gaul hated it. Not only because doing practically _anything_ risked Panacea's life, but because he knew who would insist on volunteering. Asterix would go. Asterix always went. Always put himself in harm's way, and it bothered Obelix terribly. He looked down at his friend. The blond Gaul was deep in thought again, absent-mindedly stroking Dogmatix, who sat between them.

The black and white dog could sense the village's anxiety. He could feel anger, confusion and fear emanating from every Gaul, and it made the tiny canine very uncomfortable. And then there was his master. Never before had Dogmatix sensed such strong, negative emotions coming from Obelix. It was rather frightening. Oh, he had seen Obelix mad, but it had always been an almost childish kind of anger. The type that dissolves quickly and didn't have all that much force behind it.

This time it was different. Obelix was truly mad. Very mad. But also sad and anxious. Dogmatix could feel it; sense it. Even though the pup could not fully understand why his master was in such a state, Dogmatix knew he must stay near him at all times. Obelix would need him.

Asterix, on the other hand, was another case entirely. The feelings coming from him were ones Dogmatix had felt from him in times past. Fear mixed with frustration mostly, but with a very strong underlying current of guilt. The little Gaul handled his job as village warrior quite seriously. Whenever something went wrong he always took it very hard, as if it had been his fault. As if he were the one to blame, even when there was nothing he could have done. While everyone else's emotions were directed at the enemy; their fear; their anger; Asterix's were always directed at himself. Blaming himself. Convincing himself that if any enemy existed to the Gauls, it was his inability to keep them all safe. It fueled him. Made him fight harder. But Dogmatix could sense it often hurt him a great deal.

This was one of those times.

Dogmatix leaned into the blond Gaul's warm, gentle touch. He wanted to comfort both humans, but wasn't sure how. For now he'd just have to be there for them. And for the moment, that was enough.

Asterix's eyes scanned around him, hoping for inspiration to strike him. He didn't have long to wait. As he brought up a mental image of the village in his mind, Asterix realized there was still one place they could go through to get outside the gates. It would still be risky, but something had to be done. They were already two days short of the week the Romans had given them.

He leapt to his feet, grabbing his friend's hand in an effort to haul him up as well. "Obelix, we need to gather the others! I've got an idea!"

In the distance, over the sea behind the village, a gull gave a high-pitched call.

**...**

**Just a short chapter to keep things moving. :)**

**The feelings Cacafonix is experiencing in the beginning of this chapter are based on some emotions I was struggling with a few months ago. A very close friend of mine went through something terrible, something no one should ever have to go through. When I found out, I experienced much what Cacafonix is. My mind seemed to get caught into a loop of ****despair, aimless anger, and disbelief, while on the outside I just kind of locked up.**

**As for Asterix blaming himself for troubled times when he isn't to blame, that too comes from my experience. I tend to blame myself for other people's suffering, even when I was in no way connected to what happened. I feel that if I had just been there to protect them, even if that meant me getting hurt too, then things might have turned out alright.**

**But I know everything happens for a reason. God doesn't cause suffering, but he does sometimes allow it. Sometimes we need to go through hard times, so we come out stronger. God knows that. It's like getting a flu shot, a little bit of the disease, so that later we can stand and fight against the real thing.**

**Wow. Sorry, that was deep. Sometimes you just need to write something out, you know? Especially if you usually hold it all inside.**

**Alright, back to the story...**


	9. Waking Moment

"So you see," Asterix finished, "It's the only way outside the gates left open and unguarded."

The Gauls had met in Gatafix's hut once more. Again Vitalstitistix, Fullautomatix, Geriatrix, Unhygenix, Obelix, and Impedimenta sat in a circle in the druid's home. Their eyes lit up with hope at Asterix's suggestion, seeming to cause their faces to glow; though it may have been the firelight.

"But," Asterix quickly cut in, "If it doesn't work, and our attempt is discovered...Panacea could loose her life. If it is successful, she will be safe, and we'll have more food. It's a chance, but it could be a costly one."

All eyes turned to Soporifix, who sat in the corner, by the hearth. None of them felt they could decide the fate of another man's daughter. That decision was for Soporifix alone to make.

Panacea's father gazed down at his hands, which were resting on his knees. They were trembling slightly. He tried to weigh the options; make a logical choice, but it only led to one conclusion. If they didn't surrender, Panacea _would_ die; if they did surrender, they would possibly _all_ die. If they tried Asterix's plan, Panacea _could_ survive. It _might_ work._  
_

_Could_ and _might_ was better than _would_.

"We...we need to save my daughter," the Gaul said softly. His knuckles turned white as he clasped his shaking hands in an attempt to control the quakes. "The odds are still against us, no matter what we do. So we'll have to take the lesser evil." He turned and fixed his eyes on Asterix. "Give your plan a try...and may Toutatis have mercy on us all."

The others nodded in silent agreement.

Gatafix, who was sitting in a chair halfway between the assembly and Cacafonix's bed, also nodded. He agreed there was little else to be done. "Who will be going out?"

Obelix knew what was coming.

"I will," Asterix replied, stepping forward without hesitation.

"Now, Asterix-"

"Obelix, we don't have time to argue," Asterix warned. He had known Obelix wouldn't like him going out alone. But they had no choice. Obelix couldn't go; he would be too easy to spot. To big a target. Asterix wanted his best friend in the village, where it was safe. Well..._safer_.

Obelix crossed his thick arms over his chest and stood, glaring down at the small warrior. His voice took on its no-nonsense tone. "Mr. Asterix, I am simply trying to point out that your plan is too dangerous to carry out alone!"

Asterix stood to his full height, which didn't even reached Obelix's chest. His expression filled with frustration. "Mr. Obelix," he said, trying to keep his temper under control, "_I_ am trying to tell you that this may be the only way we can save Panacea and ourselves!"

"Well, then why can't I come?!"

"BECAUSE!"

"BECAUSE WHAT?!"

Gatafix stepped between them, arms attempting to hold them back; trying to defuse the argument. "Asterix, Obelix, please, calm down."

"WE ARE CALM!" both Gauls bellowed in unison, causing the others to cringe.

In the tense silence that followed, a small sound, barely noticeable was heard. Whether it was a grunt or a whimper, no one could say, but what they knew for sure, was from where it had come.

Turning as one, the assembly was greeted with the sight of Cacafonix, conscious and aware, standing shakily beside his cot. He was terribly pale, contrasting sharply with the dark, sickly circles under his eyes. But the blue orbs were open, and looking directly at them. Gone was the glazed, far-off look that had worried them all so badly.

Gatafix rose from his chair quickly and moved toward the bard, watching with relief when Cacafonix's eyes followed his movements.

When he was standing beside Cacafonix the druid lay a hand gently on the musician's shoulder, mindful of the many bandages that resided there. "Cacafonix, how are you feeling?"

The bard tried to speak, and Gatafix mentally kicked himself. _How could I have forgotten!_

Cacafonix pushed a fist hard against his chest, a look of great anxiety on his face. His breathing was starting to hitch, and Gatafix suddenly realized the bard was about to fall headlong into panic. _That would be very bad in his condition!_

The druid firmly took hold of both the bard's shoulders, this time regardless of the burns. He had to get Cacafonix's attention before the musician sent himself into hysterics. It worked. Cacafonix stiffened and stopped struggling to pull a way, looking right into Gatafix's eyes. It was rather unnerving. The blue eyes were full of terror and pain, boring into his own dark ones. If the eyes were the window to one's soul, this one was in great distress.

"Yes, Cacafonix, you have lost your voice. I...I don't know how long it will stay that way, but I need you to stay calm." Fear still resonated in the bard's eyes. "I promise we'll do everything we can. I just need you to trust us. Can you do that?"

Cacafonix looked at the druid, then to the people watching anxiously from the other side of the room behind Gatafix's back. They looked back at him, nervous, but sending him encouragement with gentle smiles. A sort of peace came over his face and he relaxed in Gatafix's hold. The druid sighed in relief, letting go of the bard's arms.

"Good. Very good. I didn't want you to hyperventilate. Now, Cacafonix, do...do you remember what happened?"

Cacafonix shook his head slowly, but then paused.

_Fire. Pain. Fear._ It all came back to him in a flash. The ball of fire, flying toward him; the earth-shattering smash as it hit; the pain when...no just pain. That was all. Just unbearable pain. _  
_

Cacafonix nodded weakly. Gatafix sighed in relief. _At least there's been no to damage to his memory._

The druid's relief suddenly turned to confusion as Cacafonix began to wave his arms about, gesturing with his hands wildly. Gatafix and the others watched, perplexed, feeling guilty that they couldn't understand the broken, spastic movements.

"He's trying to ask us what happened."

Everyone turned to Obelix, surprised that, out of all of them, he was the first to comprehend the bard's meaning.

The big Gaul shrugged at their stares."It just makes sense."

Cacafonix nodded. The motion made him feel lightheaded and he almost fell forward onto the floor, but Gatafix caught him and helped him sit back on the bed. Cacafonix gave him a grateful look.

"It was the Romans," Gatafix explained solemnly. "They were some how able to catch your tree on fire."

"We barely had time to find you and get you out before it collapsed," Unhygenix said, shuddering at the dreadful memory. The stricken look that came over the bard's face made him wish he hadn't mentioned the musician's demolished home.

To Cacafonix the disaster was fuzzy; fragmented even. He remembered it in pieces. Something hitting the tree...hard. It had shaken its very roots. He was thrown inside his cottage. There...was smoke...and fire, and pain. All he could remember clearly was the pain.

The bard looked down at his thin body. He was covered in bandages. He could feel the itching sensation of healing wounds beneath them. He looked back at the druid, a question in his eyes.

"You were badly burned...among other things," Gatafix explained, seeing the confused and frightened expression on his face. "In fact, if you wouldn't mind, I really should take a look at them. It's hard to determine the extent of your injuries when you're unconscious, which you have been for nearly two days."

Cacafonix seemed startled by this information. To him, the memories of his ordeal were still fairly new. It bothered him more than he would ever admit that he had not been aware of the passage of time for two whole days.

The bard nodded his consent and the druid moved to unwrap the linen around his torso. But Cacafonix drew back suddenly. Fearing he had unwittingly hurt his friend, Gatafix gave him a concerned and questioning look.

The musician had bent over, his shoulders and arms leaning forward stiffly, as though he were trying to make himself as small as possible. Cacafonix, hand still pressed against his chest, lifted one finger, pointing behind the druid. Gatafix turned, confused, but then his face lit up in bard was looking at the other Gauls, especially Impedimenta, with embarrassment.

Gatafix smiled with amusement. Looking over his shoulder at the silently watching group, the druid raised an eyebrow. "Could we have a little privacy, please?"

The Gauls blinked at him as if he had spoken in some incomprehensible language.

"Oh," Impedimenta said, slowly. "Oh!" The full impact of Gatafix's words finally became clear in her mind. She blushed deeply as she began shoving the others out the door, taking charge in an effort to diminish her own embarrassment.

"But not Fullautomatix and Unhygenix," Gatafix called, as he started to locate the ending place on Cacafonix's bandage. He saw the unhappy look the bard gave him. "They've done a fine job helping me so far, and I will be in further need of their assistance." He said this more as an explanation to Cacafonix then anything else.

The two Gauls in question remained while the others quickly left. They felt just a bit uncomfortable, but Gatafix didn't let them stay idle long enough to dwell on that.

...

Asterix and Obelix left and walked away from Gatafix's hut in silence. Both avoided each others eyes and neither spoke. It was always like this after they had an argument.

It was as if a physical barrier; a gap; a canyon, separated the two. A rift in their friendship that was so easy to create. Once it was made it felt as if nothing could ever fix it. Like nothing could ever be done to make things right between them. That was what it was like every time Asterix and Obelix fought. And every time it happened they always forgot just how easy it was to dissolve that terrible barrier.

"Asterix...I'm sorry." Those were the words that always closed the gap.

Before the words where even out of Obelix's mouth Asterix had launched himself into the larger Gaul's arms. He hugged him fiercely, clinging to him as if afraid to let go. "No, Obelix, I'm the one who should be sorry. I shouldn't have lost my temper...It was wrong of me."

Obelix's face softened even more as he wrapped his thick arms around his friend. Asterix nearly disappeared beneath them, his legs dangling below, and his head just barely visible above. After a moment the two separated. Obelix set Asterix safely back on the ground, and the two friends quickly wiped any indications of tears from their eyes.

Yes, they always forgot how easy it was to fix that dreadful chasm between them. They were both very strong with their words. They were both good at arguing, and standing up for what they thought was true, at least in their own opinions. But they were the best at using their words to make things right; to encourage rather than to hurt.

"Obelix...if you want, you can come with me," Asterix said carefully. He still didn't like the idea, but he couldn't tell his best friend what to do. Obelix was a grown Gaul, and could decide things for himself. However, Asterix couldn't shake the image of Obelix being spotted while outside the village, because of his immense size. That would lead to nothing but suffering...for all of them. _And Panacea..._

Obelix shook his head with a small, gentle smile. "No, Asterix. You are right." He looked down at his widely girth. "Somehow I think a...well-covered Gaul would be a bother when sneaking about." He gave Asterix a playful nudge, that almost sent the blond Gaul sprawling. "You're so little, they won't even know you're there."

Asterix grinned widely, attempting to push his friend back, but gave up when Obelix didn't even budge. "Thank you, Obelix...I think."

"Just...just promise me..."

"Yes?"

"Promise me you'll be careful, Asterix. You're my closest friend...I don't know what I'd do if..."

Asterix patted his arm soothingly. "Hey, hey, Pal...I'll be alright. I'll be _very_ careful. Alright?"

"A-alright."

The two wandered off to gather the supplies Asterix would need for his venture that night. The rift in their friendship was dissolved. The argument; the shouts; the glares...they were all forgotten.

The Gauls did not notice the two small eyes that watched them from the safety of a bush beside one of the cottages they had been standing near. Once the two adults were out of sight, the child emerged.

Picanmix was a small boy, who only came up to Asterix's chin in height. His blond hair was bright and thin, giving it a soft and fine air. It flitted gently through the air as he glanced from left to right.

Obelix had said that it was because of Asterix's small stature that would make his plan to save them from the Romans more likely to succeed. Picanmix thought hard for a moment.

The Gaulish children had been talking with each other. The events of the past two days had been confusing and frightening for them. They did not truly understand the full complications of their situation, but they did now one thing:

The adults were worried. Even Asterix and Obelix were nervous and tense.

The children, Picanmix in particular, had always hailed the two Gauls as heroes. Which, indeed, they were. Obelix and Asterix had saved them more times then anyone could count. The Gaulish children often fought over who should be who when they played in their fantasies. For only two children could play Asterix and Obelix at a time. They were the little ones' role models. There wasn't one young boy who didn't aspire to grow up to be just like them. Sometimes even the little girls were inspired.

Picanmix shook his head. Things had to be pretty bad if Asterix and Obelix were worried.

_"You're so little, they won't even know you're there"..._That was what Obelix had said. If Asterix was small, Picanmix was even smaller. He could pass unseen. He could be a hero, just like Asterix.

The little boy nodded to himself, his decision made.

If Asterix could do his best to save the Gauls, why couldn't he...

...

"Fullautomatix, go fetch some clean water from the well. Unhygenix, go find some vegetables. Just a few, however. Under the circumstances, we need to conserve our supply."

The two Gauls rushed off to do as the druid bid. Gatafix chuckled softly to himself as he saw Cacafonix visibly relax. The bard was relieved now that he no longer had an audience. He was apparently very self-conscious without his blue and white checkered tunic.

Gatafix proceeded to unwrap the linen, finding to his surprise, but pleasure, that the burns were healing abnormally fast. The disturbing patches of charred flesh were already starting to fade as new layers of skin replaced the damaged ones. Many were nearly completely gone, and it was obvious that there might not even be any scars once they finished.

As happy as this made him, Gatafix was completely bewildered. Why would the wounds be healing so quickly? And efficiently? It didn't make any sense. He had not used any potions, or powders, nor anything that could so miraculously mend the bard's scorched and broken body. And yet, here was Cacafonix; conscious and moving without too much trouble when, in all logical sense, he should not be able to do so. Even his ankle, which Gatafix had determined broken himself, was now able to hold the bard's weight, causing only a slight limp.

Gatafix sighed. He'd have to think able that riddle some more, but for now he had things to attend to.

By the time Fullautomatix and Unhygenix returned, Gatafix had rebandaged the bard's side, which was one of the few injuries left that needed to be wrapped. It was not healing as fast as the other wounds...Of course, it had been more serious.

Gatafix had also found one of his old, long, white tunics. He had cut the material to normal shirt length and helped Cacafonix slip it on. The musician looked odd in pure white, as it was not his usual choice of color. The tunic was far to large for him, hanging loosely, and the sleeves had to be rolled up so as not to cover his hands completely. But it was better than nothing. The bard seemed much more at ease now that he was covered.

Gatafix took the water and vegetables Unhygenix and Fullautomatix had brought and threw them into the big cauldron over the fire. He started cooking them into a very light stew, adding just enough spices to give it taste. Cacafonix's stomach was completely empty; it would be unwise to give him anything too strong.

While the druid worked, the other two Gauls sat down and caught the bard up on everything that had happened since the Roman's first attack. Cacafonix listened attentively, eyes wide and hands clutching the cup of water Fullautomatix had given him. He became very distressed when they told him about Panacea, but relieved when told Asterix had a plan. If anyone could get them out of this mess, it was the little warrior.

"We're sorry about your tree, though," Unhygenix finished. He became thoughtful. "We haven't been able to figure out how the Romans did it. You know, caught your house on fire? Flaming arrows could not have reached that high, nor would it have caught fire so quickly." A mental sound replayed in his head, of the sudden noise in the night that had started this whole nightmare.

Cacafonix began shaking his head and signing with his hands again. When all he received was blank stares he sighed in frustration, looking about him for some way to convey his message. His eyes lit up and he pointed to an apple in the pile of things Unhygenix had gathered. He gestured to it repeatedly, indicating that he wanted it.

Confused, Fullautomatix rose and got it, bringing it back and setting it in in the bard's hand. By this time Gatafix was watching as well.

Cacafonix set the apple in the palm of his right hand, placing his elbow on the top of his knee, With a sudden movement, he shot the lower part of his arm forward, launching the fruit across the room.

The other three Gauls watched as the apple flew through the air, hit the far wall, and then fell to the floor, bouncing once or twice before coming to a stop.

A silence followed.

Fullautomatix couldn't figure out why his friend had wanted the fruit, if all he had planned to do was hurl it across the room. The meaning didn't snap into place until Gatafix's troubled voice broke the silence.

"A catapult."

Cacafonix nodded vigorously.

The blacksmith paled considerably. "By Toutatis..." He couldn't even imagine what that must have been like; to be hit by such a powerful weapon. It put the damage, as well as the bard's injuries into a new light. "With fire?"

Gatafix nodded slowly. "I would not put it past the Romans, especially that fiend, Spacious, to devise such a thing." Gatafix motioned to Unhygenix. "Go tell the others."

The fishmonger got up and quickly left.

Gatafix went back to his pot of boiling stew while Cacafonix leaned back in the bed. He was thoroughly exhausted, and as he lay there his eyes slowly fluttered shut. Before long, the bard was sleeping peacefully. For the first time since the fire. One of his hands subconsciously lay against his upper chest and throat, as if doing so would somehow release the invisible barrier that prevented him from speaking.

Fullautomatix watched sadly, wishing with all his heart that there was something he could do.

**...**

**Wow, that chapter really just seemed to flow from my typing fingers! It's quite a bit longer than most of my other chapters! :)**


	10. Brave Actions and Kind Words

Asterix slipped the wooden paddle in and out of the water without hardly a ripple. The silence was almost deafening; so still, it was as if he were the only human being on the planet. It was refreshing, in a way, but also instilled in him a sense of great loneliness. It reminded him that he needed to stay focused and careful. His mission depended on it.

The sea stretched out as far as his eyes could see to the north, seeming to go on and on until it fell off the edge of the earth. The cold water was like a giant mirror, reflecting the purplish light that shone down from the heavens. Stars danced in the gentle waves, causing them to wink and shimmer. Like an immense rift, the Milky Way, or so Gatafix called it, strung along the night sky. It was beautiful. Like a peaceful dream. But Asterix had no time for such pleasures.

His plan had been very simple. Sneaking out the back of the village through a hole in the wall usually used for draining rainwater from their village, he had made his way carefully towards the beach. How lucky it was for them that the village was built right up against the sea! It made the likelihood of him being spotted a little less.

Making his way over the cold, wet sand, Asterix found one of the Gauls' many rafts. It took some doing, but the little Gaul finally managed to loosen it from the soil and push it out into the waves. He hopped aboard, bringing his legs out of the chilling water to the dry logs of the craft as if the biting chill burned him. For a summer night, it was unusually frigid. Soon he was out into deeper water. Silent. Dark. Hidden.

After some time he glanced to his left, and slightly behind him. The dark silhouette of the village stood out black against the glittering atmosphere. It looked strangely small in comparison with the vast world in which it resided. For years it had stood, like an island of freedom. While Caesar conquered village after village; country after country; it remained strong. Asterix would do anything to keep it that way.

...

Panacea sat in the wet grass, scowling into the flames of a small fire. It had been two days. She could feel her heart slowly slipping into despair. She knew the Gauls were trying to find a way to save her, but it didn't encourage her as the sun sank into the west for the second time.

She was glad that, besides guarding her, the Romans had left her relatively alone. Commander Spacious had come to gloat over, what he was convinced would be the final blow that would bring the invincible Gauls to their knees. Panacea had responded that her friends, and her father, would never give in. They would never surrender. She was just one life; the village was many, composing of men, women and children. If she had to give up her life for theirs, then so be it.

Spacious had given her the nastiest grin before going back to his lavish tent on the outside of the clearing where the Romans were camping.

Panacea sighed and gazed up at the dark sky above her. The firelight made it impossible to see the twinkling stars, but she knew they were there. She had been raised in this countryside. She knew each sound, each smell, and each sight. She knew that a small creek ran not fifty feet to her right. She knew that a short distance away, dark and mysterious, lay the large boulder she had often climbed as a child. The trees stretched up toward the dark abyss, catching the light and casting long shadows that blended with the gloom of the forest around her.

Panacea's spirit sank even lower. Yes, she was willing to sacrifice everything for her friends, but she knew full well that they were more than willing to do the same for her. Panacea's greatest fear was that the villagers would do something rash in an attempt to save her life. Especially her father. She knew he must be terribly worried. She wasn't sure she could stand anyone getting hurt for her sake.

A twig snapped, causing the young woman to look to her right sharply, golden hair swinging about her shoulders. She frowned when she saw it was one of the Roman guards from before. It was the small, thin fellow who had appeared so nervous earlier.

Panacea fixed him with a distasteful glare. She pulled her tattered cloak about her shoulders. The warm glow of the fire lit her face, giving it a autem tinge that brought out the blond in her hair. The flames seemed to dance in her eyes as she gazed over the fire at him. The Roman just stood there, a full plate of food in his hands.

"What do you want?" she demanded, not holding back the disdain that crept into her voice.

The Roman flinched back at her harsh words and took a cautious step back. He was trembling, she noticed, causing the platter and spoon in his hands to jitter and rattle. He looked as if he would dart off back the way he had come at any moment.

Panacea moved her eyes to the plate, giving it a longing look. Whatever it was, it smelt wonderful. She was very hungry, and the enticing aroma made that fact once again known to her stomach with a vengeance.

"What...what is that?" she asked, trying not to sound as interested as she felt.

It wasn't that her captors hadn't been feeding her at all, but she certainly hadn't been given any feasts. Bread and water, twice a day, had been the limit of their hospitality.

The guard looked about him, as if checking to make sure no one was watching. Which, Panacea though odd, since he was obviously the only guard on duty at the moment. _Must be his watch_.

Panacea gave him a curious glance as the Roman came over hesitantly, and held the platter out to her. He kept glancing over his shoulder. The young woman took the food carefully, as if she expected it to be poisoned, but the meal looked and smelled fine. In fact, it looked and smelled delicious!

"Th-Thank you," she stammered, thrown off by his kindness.

The Roman gave her a nervous nod, still appearing very edgy. As Panacea began to eat, what appeared to be boar stew, the small, thin Guard made his way over to the fire and sat down. He didn't venture too close, but he wasn't on the other side of the flames. It became apparent to Panacea that he was doing more than keeping an eye on their prisoner; he was keeping her company.

She cleaned the platter thoroughly, leaving not so much as a drop of evidence it had ever been dirty. She would have licked its surface, if not for the fact that she had been brought up prim and proper. She handed the plate back to the Roman, who set it on the ground at his side. They sat in silence for a moment. The longer the quiet lasted, the more uncomfortable the situation became.

Panacea drew her knees up to her chest, wrapping her thin, graceful arms around them, all the while studying her odd, and flighty visitor.

"What is your name," she asked finally, figuring that was the best question to start with.

The Roman startled slightly at her voice. Looking about again, just to make sure the coast was still clear. Establishing once again that it was, he turned back to her. The woman's eyes were catching the honey-colored glow of the firelight, causing them to sparkle. Her expression seemed less imposing; more open and friendly. Or maybe it was just his imagination. Either way, it gave him the courage to reply.

"Anxious."

_Well...that was certainly fitting._

Panacea motioned to the empty platter with a tilt of her head. "Why did you bring me that?" Then she added quickly, "Not that I didn't appreciate it. It's just...I wasn't expecting any kindness here."

Anxious nodded understandingly. "I...I saw what they were giving you to eat. It wasn't right...I-I know you're the enemy, but...So, I thought, maybe I could get you a little something." He gave her a shy smile, and Panacea found herself returning it.

This Roman was not like the others. He treated her as an equal. Something she had not expected.

"Couldn't you get in trouble for that?"

The Roman flinched, glancing over his shoulder at the empty clearing. Panacea noticed he was trembling ever so slightly. _He's terribly frightened..._

"I-I suppose, but you...you needed something to eat. You hadn't had a good meal in so long. Almost four days; since they caught you."

"And you risked getting in trouble for me? That is very...noble of you."

The guard blushed, wringing his hands in a mix of embarrassment and nerves. "I just thought you could use it, after all you've been through."

Panacea's smile faded and her eyes took on a far away look. "I haven't been through nearly as much as my friends have," she said sadly. She fixed her gaze on the glowing embers of the fire, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. She jumped when she felt a gentle touch on her shoulder. She looked up and found that Anxious had scooted closer to her, laying a hesitant hand on her arm. To her surprise, his face contained almost as much despair as her own. But there was something else. Something stronger. Guilt.

"I am so sorry," he said, his voice shaking as he withdrew his hand. "When I was recruited for this mission I...they didn't tell me..." He sighed miserably. "I wish we had never come here. It's not right for us to besiege a village that contains, not only men, but women and children as well. And to use such a terrible weapon..."

Panacea's mind brought up the image of the catapult launching the immense fireball through the air. It had lit up the night sky, almost looking beautiful, if not for its deadly properties. Then it had hit Cacafonix's tree, right against the upper side, just about level with the place where the tree became planks of wood, making up the bard's cottage.

Panacea had screamed. In anger. In fear. It complete and total horror. Disbelief had showed in her eyes as she watched the flames take hold, consuming the building with monstrous energy. Panacea couldn't watch anymore. She had turned and cried into her hands, weeping for what she was sure was the demise of one of her beloved friends. And beside her, grinning like the evil demon she was sure he was, stood Spacious, the Roman Commander.

Anxious watched in remorse as a single, shining tear made its way down the beautiful woman's cheek, leaving behind a wet trail, that glistened in the firelight. More then ever he felt guilt pounding away in his soul. He remembered his own horror that night.

He had watched in quiet fascination as the giant boulder was loaded into the bucket of the catapult. The beam groaned under the added weight, but held firmly. The weapon was positioned and then, to the surprise of most of the Roman garrison, Spacious grabbed a torch from one of his men and held it to the stone. In a soft, thumping explosion, it burst into flames, casting dark and light shadows across the Commander's smirking face.

That was when Anxious had realized what was about to happen.

Oh, he had known that they would be sending at least one boulder into the village. That had been their plan. But he had highly doubted that it would have done much damage. But with the added element of fire...not even the invincible Gauls could fight against such a formidable enemy.

Anxious wanted to say something. He wanted to speak up and try and stop this madness...but he was too afraid. One look at the pure evil on his Commander's face made him freeze. That was not the look of a sane man...

The ropes to the catapult were suddenly cut, and with a whoosh that sounded terrible and odd in the quiet night, the boulder was launched. And as the fireball from destruction itself smashed into the house-laden tree...

...she had screamed.

It was a sound that shattered the night like thunder; like glass. It echoed throughout the forest, frightening birds, still deep in slumber. It spread itself upon the breeze, carrying itself out to see. But as far as the pain-filled screech may have traveled, no where did it hit harder than the thin soldier's heart. Something about that cry did more to him then any sword or spear ever could have; piercing his very soul. It was a sound that was sure to haunt his dreams for years to come...all because he had been too frightened to speak up.

And now, here he was; sitting with the very woman who they had caused so much suffering. He wanted to comfort her. Tell her everything was going to be fine in the end...But who was he, an accomplice in this horrendous crime, to comfort her, the victim of their misdeed. And yet, comfort was all he could give to ease his pain and guilt.

The two sat in silence, gazing into the now dying fire.

Anxious looked over at the young woman. Her eyes were closed, and a gentle breeze rustled her golden hair. As he watched, the firelight caught something on her finger, causing in to glitter. A ring.

"You are married?" he asked gently.

"Yes," Panacea said, a small smile coming to her face as she looked down at her hand at the circle of gold.

"What is his name?"

"Tragicomix."

"Ah. He is in Condatum, isn't he?"

"Yes."

There was a long pause. An uncomfortable pause.

"Do you have a family?" It was Panacea's turn to inquire.

"Yes," the Roman said, a grin flitting across his face. "I have a beautiful wife. She's a wonderful cook. She sews. She's a real treasure. But her greatest quality is her kind heart."

"Not all that unlike you."

He blushed.

"Have you any children?" the woman asked, turning so she was facing him a little better. He shook his head.

"Not yet. I...I haven't seen her for months. I haven't seem any of my relatives, not even my parents, for at least that long." His face fell. "That's what happens when you sign up with the Roman army."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's not your fault." Quickly changing the subject he asked, "And you? Where is your family?"

The sadness returned to Panacea's beautiful features. She lifted a hand, sweeping it weakly toward the village. "My father lives here. It's where he raised me. I haven't seen him for some time either."

"And your mother?" He caught the look of total devastation. He knew that expression all too well. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Panacea laughed, trying to cover up the tears that had started to show in the corners of her eyes. "It's not your fault."

_Well, at least something wasn't,_ he thought bitterly.

"ANXIOUS!"

The Roman jumped to his feet, getting himself a more inconspicuous distance from the prisoner just as another soldier came into the clearing. It was the big fellow; the one that Panacea had decided looked more like a fat, ugly boar then a man.

"Yes," Anxious squeaked, the nervousness that had diminished over their conversation returning full force.

"Your watch is over. Go get some sleep. I'll watch over the barbarian."

Anxious resisted the urge to give him a piece of his mind. That woman was certainly _not_ a barbarian. She sort of reminded him of his wife. Not in appearance, you understand, but in temperament. In her mannerisms. He hated to leave Panacea with the big brute, but knew she would be safe. Spacious had ordered no one to touch her, on penalty of death. Anxious gulped as he remembered laying his hand on the woman's shoulder. He was digging himself into a deeper and deeper hole, he knew. He just hoped that hole wouldn't become his grave.

**...**

**Here we go, another one. :) I couldn't find if there ever was a Roman named Anxious in the comics, so I came up with this one. If there is one somewhere, this is not the same one, and the fact that they share the same name is purely coincidental. :)**


End file.
